Three AM
by Bespectacled BriarRose
Summary: When Darcy goes to yell at her best friend Steve, she ends up face-to-face with a half-naked James Buchanan Barnes. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Darcy**

"Steven Grant Rogers, you open this door right now," demanded Darcy Lewis, pounding on the door to her best friend's apartment. She crossed her arms over her chest, not caring that her breasts were pushed up in an almost obscene way in her low-cut blouse. Her red lips twisted into a scowl as she heard a stumble from the other side of the door.

"What the hell? It's too early for this shit," grumbled the man who opened the door. Darcy's eyes widened. This was most definitely not Steve. "What did the punk do now?" He was hot. Very hot. And cut. Fuck, was she at the wrong place? No, she couldn't be. She had knocked on this door so many times. The guy at the door stared at her, raising a dark eyebrow and reaching up to push a loose strand of long hair behind his ear. He looked rumpled and sexy, with a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his hips. Holy fuck, his abs were spectacular. And the v of his hips, the dark line of hair that disappeared into his sweats; both were doing wonderful things to Darcy's body.

"Uh," was all Darcy could get past her lips. The man was rubbing at his face with one hand, which was doing wonderful things to the muscles of his chest. She shook her head, ripping her eyes up from his abs to his well-sculpted pecs to – was his left arm made of _metal_?! Something niggled in the back of her mind, like she should know who he was, but she was too distracted to really think about it.

The guy smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. "You lookin' for Steve, doll?" Darcy nearly swooned at his Brooklyn drawl. Steve hid his so well, but this guy didn't seem to care that he sounded panty-meltingly sexy. He probably sounded even better in the bedroom, in the dark, she mussed, trying to drag her eyes from his cut pecks to the dip of his collarbone and past his chiseled, stubbly jaw. Stubble was hot, especially on him.

"Um, yeah. Captain Asshole ditched me to deal with Johnny Storm at the coffee shop this morning," she said, regaining her composure and ripping her eyes from his plush lower lip. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown that glowed with mirth.

"Ah, okay then. Well, seein' as he went out with Stark and Barton last night and never came home, I don't think I can be much help." Darcy bit her lip. He obviously knew what his accent did to women, judging by the way the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. He leaned against the door frame, a few strands of his chin-length hair falling into his face. "So how'd you get on the bad side of the Human Torch?"

Darcy scoffed, "More like he got on my bad side. Too many conversations where he couldn't keep his eyes off the girls. I don't appreciate when guys tell me we're dating after a drunken one-night stand. Steve-o was supposed to help me set him straight, because the idiot thinks I'm playing hard to get." He let out a loud laugh at her statement.

"Tell ya what, doll. In exchange for your finding my best friend and letting me be there when you tear him a new one, I'll go face down the Human Torch with you," he said.

"Sounds good by me," she grinned. "Darcy Lewis, by the way." She stuck out her hand to shake. His large, warm hand folded around hers, and she let a shiver run through her body.

"James Barnes. But you've probably heard Steve call me Bucky."

Darcy's jaw dropped. "_You're_ Bucky? Oh, well, duh, I should have guessed, what with the arm, but, oh my God, I am so sorry to wake you up and bother you. I've heard so much about you! It's really nice to finally meet you."

"All good things, I hope," he laughed. "Sorry I haven't been so social yet. I only just got back, and Steve has this birdbrained idea that I need to adjust to people."

"Well, we're having a movie night tonight. Consider yourself ordered to be there by Coulson's PA," she said. "I'm off to find your buddy, now. Later, James!" She waved and headed for the elevator, a bit of extra sway in her hips. She could feel his eyes burning into her body, and she smirked to herself, happy she had worn her heeled boots with her best skinny jeans. She reached the elevator and turned to see Bucky's eyes glued shamelessly to her curves. She winked, and he grinned unapologetically as she entered the elevator. The doors slid closed and cut off her wonderful view. "Hey, Jarv?"

"Yes, Miss Lewis?" replied the AI, a phantom voice from the ceiling.

"What did I say about calling me Miss Lewis? And where are Steve, Tony, and Clint?"

"Mr. Stark and the Captain are in the lab, and I believe that Agent Barton is on the roof," said Jarvis, his crisp British accent calm.

"Thanks, Jarv. Can you take me there, first?" The elevator shot up to roof level. Darcy stepped out onto the gusty roof, shivering as the wind bit through her thin blouse. "Clint?" she called out, not seeing him right away.

"Ugh," came Clint's disgruntled groan from somewhere to her left. Darcy walked over to stand above the archer. "Move a bit to the left? The sun's getting real bright."

"Get up, Hawkass," she quipped, leaning down to give him a hand. "Let's go get you some coffee." Clint pulled himself up and leaned on her a bit, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "What bright idea brought drunk you to the roof?"

Clint shook his head slowly as they stepped into the elevator. "Jarvis, can you dim the lights, please?" he grunted, squeezing his eyes closed. The lights went down, and Clint opened his eyes. "I think I was trying to catch a hawk," he admitted to Darcy, leaning against the elevator wall.

She sighed at her adoptive brother's antics, shaking her head. "You guys used your blackout drunk pass for the week, just so you know." The elevator dinged and the doors opened into Tony's lab. "You might want to cover your ears, Barton," she warned, strutting into the lab, her face a blank mask she had picked up from Natasha. Who was passed out on the couch. Just fucking wonderful; she had been counting on the spy's ability to scare the living shit out of everyone. "C'mon, Jarvis. Just like last week." She plugged her ears as the AI began to blare "Call Me Maybe". Nat jumped up from the couch, gun in one hand, other held to her ear, glaring balefully at the smug PA in front of her.

"Shut it off, Lewis!" yelled Tony from his place on the floor. Steve poked his head up from behind a lab table, his hair rumpled and eyes bloodshot.

"Thanks, Jarvis!" she yelled, and the music stopped. "How'd you guys sleep?" Her Midwestern drawl poked through, reflecting her annoyance with Steve.

"Fuck you, Lewis," groaned Stark as she walked over to the coffee maker, Clint on her heels. She pressed the start button on the modified coffee maker, and it began to make enough coffee to feed an army of hungover superheroes. She then marched over to Steve, who was squinting at her.

"Quit fucking with me, Rogers. I know you can't get drunk, so drop the act," she snarled, tapping the toe of her boot on the floor.

"Tony made me vodka," he replied, sitting up and groaning. "I haven't had a headache this bad since I had influenza. Fuck." Clint walked over with a mug of coffee for Steve, and the super soldier took it gratefully. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Steve.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Lewis?" grumbled Tony, who promptly got smacked upside the head by Natasha as she made her way to the coffee maker.

"Well whoop-de-do, Cap. While you were hungover, I had to deal with one very clingy member of the Fantastic Four who doesn't get the message that it was a one night stand and is convinced I want to date him," she snapped, ignoring Tony completely. Steve's head shot up, an action which must have hurt like hell, but his eyes were immediately full of guilt.

"Darce, I'm so sorry," he began to apologize before Darcy cut him off.

"I promised your roomie that I'd wait until he was present to rip you a new one." She kissed him on the top of his head. "Feel better." She began to head back out to the kitchen. "Movies tonight, lunch in three hours. I'm going to make a pot of soup."

Halfway to the kitchen, Darcy stopped off in her room to change out of her heeled boots and slip into a pair of socks covered with ducks. She also swapped out her low-cut blouse for an old flannel shirt before gathering her dark, curly hair into a messy bun on the back of her head. The last step to getting comfortable was to swap out her seldom-worn contacts for her black-framed glasses, which ended up taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She eventually found her glasses in the kitchenette of her apartment.

Darcy wandered into the kitchen and pulled a stockpot almost as big as her out of the cupboards below the counter. Short as she was, she pulled out the kitchen stepstool too, setting that up beside the pot. She filled the pot with water, and set to work cutting up two chickens and enough vegetables to feed an army.

"Hey, Darcy," chimed Bruce Banner, walking into the kitchen. She looked up at the fluffy-haired scientist and offered him a huge smile.

"Hiya Doc! You busy?" She continued to chop chicken without looking down. She was confident in her chopping abilities.

"Not really, do you need help?" he asked, a tired grin on his face. Darcy set her knife down and washed her hands. Strolling over to the scientist, she proceeded to stare at his face. "Darce? Everything good?"

She poked at the dark circles under his eyes before asking, "When did you last sleep? And I don't mean a cat nap. When did you last hit a full REM cycle?"

"Um, maybe… Monday?" he replied, tapping at his chin.

"Bruce, c'mon, you gotta sleep," she scolded. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off before he could even get a word out. "Science can wait. Sit. I'll make you a cup of chamomile tea, and then I'll make sure nobody disturbs you until movies tonight, okay?" He just nodded, apparently knowing better than to argue with the force of nature that was Darcy Lewis. She set to work making a mug of the relaxing tea as Bruce perched on a stool at the island.

"Thank you, Darcy. How did things with Sue's younger brother go?" he asked as she left the teakettle to boil and filled her submarine-shaped tea infuser with her favorite sleepytime tea for him, and her t-rex tea infuser with mint tea for herself.

"They didn't. Tony managed to finally find an alcohol with a proof high enough to get Steve drunk, so, instead of coming with me to be my fake-boyfriend and get Johnny off my case, he spent the morning sleeping in the lab," she replied, shaking her head and pushing her glasses up slightly to rub the bridge of her nose. "I want Johnny off my ass and fast. He keeps calling." To punctuate her point, her phone rang. One look at the caller ID had it flung over to Bruce. He looked at Darcy pointedly. She shrugged helplessly.

With a huge sigh, Bruce answered the phone, "Hello? Yes, hi Johnny. Darcy's currently very busy at the moment. Yeah, okay. Say hi to your sister for me. Bye." He tossed the phone back to Darcy who smiled at him as she poured hot water into their mugs.

"Thank you, Big Green," she said, handing him the mug with the little submarine floating in it. She dropped a kiss on his cheek as he grinned, despite his reluctance to lie for her.

"Sure, but this is the last time. Fix it." He took a sip of his tea, and Darcy got back to work. She dumped the chicken into the giant pot, turned up the heat, and set to work chopping carrots, celery, onions, potatoes, and all manner of other herbs and vegetables. Bruce sat there, sipping at his tea and sharing idle chatter. The rest of the Avengers steadily ended up either in the kitchen area, or in front of the mammoth television in the adjoining room. Steve came in and apologized just as she dumped in the last of the vegetables.

"Darce, I'm so sorry," he said, coming up to the island.

"Can't yell at you until James is here. I promised," she commented. She wasn't really mad at Steve, not anymore. But she wanted to keep him on his toes, a tactic she had learned from Natasha. The redheaded spy had a reputation for having a temper, though she was the most mild-mannered woman Darcy had ever met. Natasha did enjoy perpetuating the rumors, though. It always made for a good laugh on girls' night with Pepper, Jane, and sometimes Maria.

Steve gulped as Darcy smiled innocently at her best friend. She shoved gently at him to gain access to the cabinets that contained flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. "Darce, seriously. I am so sorry," he tried again. She just grinned at him again and spread the ingredients to make her grandma's double fudge cookies.

"Can you grab me some butter? Two pounds, please," she said, pulling a few boxes of bakers chocolate out of another cupboard. She began to chop it into bits as Steve set the butter down at her elbow and tried again.

"Darcy, please. I'm really so sorry, and I promise we'll go tomorrow, and-"

"You might want to give the girl some space, Steve," drawled a panty-destroying Brooklyn accent from by the door. Darcy jumped and nicked her finger on the blade of her knife, glaring over at Bucky, who immediately looked contrite.

_A/N Hey guys! So sorry this took awhile... I was marathoning Arrow again... (Some fics coming under that show soon, I promise!) I hope you enjoy this fic; it's hopefully going to go faster than my others, but I'm not sure because I'm not quite sure where this is going. But, enjoy! Please R&R! _

_All my love- BriarRose_


	2. Chapter 2

**Bucky POV**

Bucky shut the door as the elevator doors closed. "Damn, that's some woman," he said aloud to the empty apartment. He shook his head and scratched at his chest, walking back to the couch to continue his game of Call of Duty: Black Ops. His addiction to the first-person shooter game was indirectly Clint's fault. The archer had dropped by, quite literally, as he accidentally fell out of the air vent by the television, one day while Steve was at the gym. Bucky had just stared at the man standing in the living room, hair still dripping wet from a shower and wearing a pair of drawstring shorts and no shirt.

"Hide me," was all that the man had said, so Bucky shrugged and sat on the couch. From there, the two had become fast friends, and Clint had even begun to use the door recently. Once, he had brought over a PS4 and all of the Call of Duty games, and Bucky was hooked. He popped the headset back onto his head and resumed gameplay.

An hour later, Steve stumbled back into the room in yesterday's rumpled clothes. "Hey, punk. A dame stopped by earlier, lookin' for ya," he said in greeting, not looking away from his game, but pushing the mic away from his mouth. He rarely actually spoke to the other players on his server, even Clint, but he listened in and did his part. It helped him relax and focus better than punching bags and sparring matches with Steve could.

Steve froze, head shooting up to look at Bucky. "Dammit, Buck, I am so sorry you had to deal with Hurricane Darcy."

Bucky logged off the game and turned to look at Steve, a huge grin on his face, "It was no big deal. She was a helluva sight, Steve. She found you, I take it?" The incredulous look on Steve's face was quickly replaced by one of shame as he nodded. "Go shower, idiot," laughed Bucky as he stood from the couch to turn off the game system. Steve slouched his way into his room, and the door clicked shut behind him. Bucky stretched his arms above his head, the pull on the tight muscles in his shoulder blades felt delicious. He went into his room to change into clothes suitable for going out of the apartment. He left his sweats crumpled on his bed as he pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed a black t-shirt from his drawer. As he was pulling it over his head, he called out to Jarvis. "Jarvis? Could you do me a favor?"

"How may I help you, Sargent Barnes?" replied the smooth voice of the automated butler.

"Where is Darcy?" he asked, feeling slightly like a stalker, but too curious about the pin-up girl who had showed up at the door that morning to care.

"Darcy is currently in the kitchen, making lunch for the team," replied Jarvis.

"Thanks," replied Bucky absently, combing through his tangled hair and trying to decide whether or not to cut it. He liked how it was different from the Bucky he had been before the Fall, but he felt like it was too reminiscent of the Winter Soldier. "Hey, Jarvis? Where can I go to get my hair cut?"

The AI paused before replying, "There is a barber two blocks over that Captain Rogers goes to often." Bucky nodded and headed toward the door.

"I'm going to get my hair cut," he called to Steve, then rushed out the door before the super soldier could respond. He stepped into the elevator, still pulling his jacket onto his shoulders and his shoes untied. He had one of Stark's prototype camouflage devices in his pocket, and he quickly stuck it to his arm and activated it. His metal arm immediately took on the appearance of having human skin.

He made it to the lobby with tied shoes and his jacket pulling across the muscles of his chest before he pulled his Stark phone out of his pocket and called Jarvis. "Hey Jarvis, which way is the barber shop?"

"Take a left out of the building and walk two blocks south. Ellenwood's Barber Shop will be on your left," replied the AI.

"Thank you Jarvis," replied Bucky before hanging up. He checked his wallet to make sure he had some cash, and swore when he was greeted by a puff of dust. Clint was going down for using Bucky's money to pay for pizza every game night. He shook his head and walked down the street towards the barber shop, hoping he passed an ATM along the way. Clint had taught him how to use one, though the action was intensely familiar, so Bucky could only assume the Soldier had used them at some point. Twenty minutes later, Bucky found himself outside the barber's, wallet filled with his latest withdrawal from the account Stark had set up for him. He walked inside and took a seat in the waiting area and picked up the newspaper from the table in front of him.

"Hello, my name's Mike. How may I help you?" asked a man with dark hair, graying hair. He held his hand out to shake, and Bucky stood up and shook his hand.

"James. I need a haircut, but I'm not sure what I want," he replied, following Mike to the empty chair.

Mike nodded, poking his fingers through Bucky's hair. "Okay. Do you trust me?" Bucky met the barber's kind green eyes in the mirror as he pulled an apron around Bucky's shoulders, and nodded. "Great. Any things you don't want?"

"Shorter, but not too short. Something easy to deal with on the go. And don't shave. Just haircut," decided Bucky. He needed something that wouldn't get in his way but still looked good. After all, he had his eye on a girl. He couldn't look like a hobo, as Clint had once called him.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands," assured Mike, picking up his scissors. He began to cut Bucky's hair, a steady stream of conversation falling easily from his lips. "So, James, are you new to New York?"

"I was born here, but then I went away for awhile. I just got back last month," Bucky replied as the barber snipped away. The long strands of hair fell to the floor, and Bucky felt lighter after every _snickt_ of the scissors.

"All done," said Mike, pulling the apron off with a flourish. Bucky had been in the chair for nearly a half hour, and as he leaned forward to run a hand through his hair, he grinned. It was a clean cut, cropped close to his head on the sides and in the back, but still had length in the front. It was parted to the side, and the fringe of his dark brown hair hung above his eyebrows for the first time since he could remember.

"Thank you so much, man," he said, standing and shaking Mike's hand. "How much do I owe?"

"Twenty one," replied the barber, hanging up the apron and walking to the front register. Bucky paid the man, and left with a wave.

"See you around!" he called over his shoulder, deciding that he would keep coming back to the barber shop. He was whistling as he walked back to the tower. He felt the stares of a few women as he passed, and a grin spread across his face. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the appreciative stares on the street. His mind shot back to that morning, and his grin got even wider. He wondered what Darcy would think of his hair. That thought startled him, as he hadn't even known the girl for twelve hours and he was already wondering what she would think of him. He rubbed a hand across his chin, and immediately regretting not getting a shave as well. He walked into the tower and immediately went up to the apartment. Leaving his shoes and jacket by the door, he deactivated the camouflage device and went to his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he realized exactly how out-of-control his stubble was getting. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Sargent Barnes?"

"Is there a razor in this bathroom?"

"Under the sink, there are both safety razors and a straight razor, Sargent," replied the AI. "Please exercise caution, as I don't believe that Captain Rogers would be happy if you injured yourself."

Bucky chuckled and replied, "Thanks Jarvis. I'll do my best." He pulled the straight razor from under the sink and felt the weight of it in his palm. It was familiar from his days before, and it felt good to have the familiar action to keep his hands busy. He found a can of shaving cream and a bottle of aftershave in the cabinet above the sink and got to work. The scrape of the razor along his skin was comforting as he stripped away the growing beard. It only took him a few minutes, and he was patting Old Spice aftershave onto his face and heading out the door soon after. The sting of the aftershave felt invigorating, and Bucky headed up to the kitchen, noticing that it was still well before noon and hoping Darcy still had some soup cooking.

He strolled into the kitchen to see Steve pleading with Darcy to forgive him as the brunette began to chop some chocolate. "You might want to give the girl some space, Steve," he drawled, leaning against the counter near the door. Darcy jumped and glared over at Bucky. She brought the knife over to the sink and washed it before beginning to scrub at a place on her finger.

"Fuck, Barnes, you need a bell," she swore, glaring at him. "You almost made me cut my finger off." He was over by her side in seconds, pulling her finger from under the water to examine the cut. "Jeez, James, I'm fine. I was exaggerating." She pulled her hand back gently, and he felt her eyes roam over his face.

"I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck. He smirked a bit when Darcy's eyes darted to his bicep. She pulled her plush, dark pink lower lip in between her teeth, and a shiver went down his spine. He realized that they were standing extremely close together, and he felt a strange sensation moving from his neck up to his cheeks. Darcy began to giggle, and he looked down, his hair flopping down over his forehead as he recognized the feeling as a blush. James Barnes did not blush.

"It's fine," she said, a huge grin splitting her face as she squeezed past him to finish chopping up the big block of chocolate. Bucky moved over to the large stockpot on the counter and peered over the top. Damn, it was a big pot of soup. He went to lift the lid to smell it, but there was a whipping noise and then a stinging sensation on his left asscheek. He turned to see what was up, and Darcy was mixing butter and sugar together in a bowl with a green towel slung over her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow and moved to open the pot lid again, not moving his eyes off of her. She didn't turn around, but she grabbed the towel and flicked his hipbone with it. He jumped at that one, what with its proximity to organs he quite enjoyed using.

"The hell, Darcy?" he asked, going for the soup again, testing her reflexes. She hit him with the towel again, this time barely an inch to the left of his dick. _Fuck_. She was scary.

"Don't touch the soup," she said, turning to place the chocolate into the microwave with one hand while stirring eggs and vanilla into the big bowl with the other. "It's still got twenty minutes. Go get me the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, if you insist on staying in my kitchen."

Bucky looked around for backup, but Steve had disappeared. "Fine." He slouched over to the pantry and dug out a huge bag of chocolate chips, which he then set on the counter. Hoping to avoid being ordered around, he went to the fridge to see what there was to drink. He found a can of Coke and took it to the island stools, where he could sit and watch Darcy work. She was mixing the chocolate chips into a huge mixing bowl, and she dipped her finger in the batter to taste it.

"Want some?" she asked, pulling out a handful of spoons. He raised an eyebrow at her and opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped from saying anything by the spoon that she shoved in his mouth. "Who wants some cookie dough?" she called out, and the whole team came stampeding into the kitchen. Bucky sucked the cookie dough off of the spoon thoughtfully as he watched the Avengers interact with the intriguing brunette in front of him. Tony ruffled her hair, and she whacked him with a spoon. Clint poked her in the sides and Natasha smacked him upside the head when Darcy jumped. Bruce grinned, more at ease than Bucky had ever seen him, Sam Wilson stuck his spoon in his mouth quite greedily, Steve wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a half hug – which he also got hit with the wooden spoon for, which made Bucky grin – and Pepper, Jane, and Thor all tried to sneak more cookie dough. He was impressed by the way they all seemed to care about her and how she was such a part of their world.

"You good, Buck?" asked Steve, walking over, still rubbing at his forehead where the spoon had connected with him.

"Yeah, I think I am. I'm actually pretty hungry, too," he said, raising an eyebrow at Darcy. "C'mon pin-up girl, when's the soup done?"

Darcy returned his stare for a moment before turning and walking over to the soup, her hips swaying with the simple movement. His eyes were glued to her curvaceous ass. "Now. But you got another thing comin' if you think you get the first bowl, soldier." She waved a ladle that had seemingly appeared from nowhere at him. "Now put that height to good use and get me some bowls." She moved to fish out spoons as Bucky stood up and went to get the bowls. The cupboard was right above the silverware drawer, which Darcy was currently rummaging through. An idea sparked in the back of Bucky's mind, and he reached over her to get the bowls. He pressed his body flush against hers, and he felt her breath catch as her back stiffened.

"Sorry, doll," he breathed in her ear as he balanced the entire stack of bowls in his metal hand. He let his other hand brush against her waist as he braced himself on the counter. "Where do you want me to put these?"

"J-just over there, by the soup," she stuttered, and he grinned smugly at that. He carefully backed away and turned to see Steve raising an eyebrow at him. Bucky just shrugged and winked at his best friend. He set the bowls down and turned, only to find Darcy pressed up against him, spoons in one hand, towel over one shoulder, and a sexy little smirk twisting her lips. "Need something, James?" She said his given name in a way that made him want to whisk her away to a dark room and give her a night to remember. Hopefully more than one night. He took a deep breath, trying to prevent himself from shaking and stepped back. Darcy followed him, and he bit back a groan.

"Fuck, doll, gimme a break. 'Sides, the team must be hungry," he said, voice low.

"Darcyyyyyy," whined Tony, "where's the soup? I'm hung- oh. No hanky panky in my kitchen." Bucky whipped his head around to stare at the laughing billionaire.

"It's my kitchen and we both know that, Tony," replied Darcy, seeming unfazed by what had just transpired. She served up soup and everyone came and crowded around. Bucky did not get the first bowl of soup.

_A/N- This chapter did not want to be written. I am so sorry about that. But here it is, awkward Bucky-ness and all. He doesn't like me much. I hope you enjoy this, and, even though I am back at school, I will be doing my best to keep updating and posting new fics. I'm going to go start on Chapter 3, now. I think Darcy will be telling more of the story from now on. All my love- Rose_


	3. Chapter 3

**Darcy**

Darcy stood at the sink, washing dishes after serving everyone soup and setting hers aside. The cookies were being dutifully scooped by Natasha, who had insisted that Darcy did enough. The redheaded assassin just liked to bake, and Darcy knew it. She scrubbed at the soup pot under scalding water, and she glanced over at Bucky, Steve, and Clint. The boys were all joking and scarfing soup like it would be their last meal. She found her eyes lingering on Bucky's clean-shaven jaw and remembering the smell of Old Spice that had surrounded her when he was close. She suddenly had an unbidden vision of the metal-armed hero sitting backwards astride a horse on a beach, and she couldn't contain her laughter. Everyone looked over at her curiously, but she just continued to laugh, leaning over the sink. Her shirt was getting wet, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Darce? You okay?" asked Natasha, moving next to the girl to turn off the tap after sliding the last tray of cookies into the oven.

"Bucky. Old Spice. Horse," she gasped, unable to breathe through what must now sound like dying fish noises. Natasha took a second to understand, but dutiful best friend/sister that she was, she went over to sniff the former assassin and began to laugh as well, though not quite as violently as Darcy.

"Well then," said Clint uncomfortably. "I'm going to go work out. Care to join me, Buck?" Bucky looked at Darcy funny and nodded, following the archer as he got up.

"You two are weird," commented Tony as he kissed Pepper and headed down to the lab, Bruce and Jane on his heels. Natasha and Darcy kept giggling. Thor wandered over and commandeered the cookie dough bowl to scrape out the excess as Steve picked up a towel and began to dry dishes.

"What was so funny?" asked Pepper, handing Darcy a kitchen towel.

Darcy burst out laughing again, so Natasha tried to explain, "Bucky was wearing Old Spice." She couldn't get any farther because she made eye contact with Darcy and collapsed into another fit of giggles.

"This is really disconcerting," mumbled Steve, who just got whacked over the head with a slightly soapy wooden spoon by a still-gasping Darcy.

"Horse," she managed to wheeze out. "Backwards." She collapsed into giggles as Pepper looked at her strangely for a second before making the connection. She began to giggle as well.

"Oh god," muttered Steve, setting down the bowls that he had just dried. "Thor, how about we go spar?" The god nodded and followed Steve out. The three girls continued to clean up, giggles saturating the room every few minutes.

About an hour later, the big clock that hung over the bar chimed three o'clock, and Darcy jumped. "Shit, I have to go take care of some stuff at the office," she said, moving to place the glasses they had been drinking out of in the sink. "Jarvis, can you put in the pizza order in about an hour for delivery at seven? And can you add another meat lovers in there, too?"

"Of course, Darcy," he replied.

"Thanks Jarv," she said. "I'll see you ladies at movie night, okay?" She kissed them both on the cheek and sprinted down to her room to change into a pair of heels and a sweater. She wrangled her hair into a slightly more professional braid, though she had been given clearance by Coulson and Fury to wear whatever the hell she wanted after her professional attire had proved to be a distraction to everyone around her. How was it her fault she had a fantastic ass and an even better rack? Or that no matter what she wore, it was prominent? Exactly. So after she had filed her eighth sexual harassment claim and tased the twelfth person who had made to grab her ass, Coulson and Fury had granted her permission to wear whatever she felt was appropriate. So, instead of pencil skirts and blouses, she wore jeans everyday. She kept wearing the blouses, though, because _damn_ they were cute. She touched up her makeup and sprinted out the door.

She passed Bucky and Clint in the hallway, and she heard Bucky ask, "How in all holy fuck can she run in those things?"

"I chase after that idiot," she called back, jamming her thumb towards Clint. Bucky snorted, and Darcy just kept running. She skidded to a stop in the elevator, and jammed her finger against the button for the lobby. As soon as the door opened, she took off at a sprint again, loving the feeling of power that came with every strike of her Manolo Blanc's against the pavement. After breaking one too many heels, she had dumped all of her heels on Tony's desk and told him to make them not break when she ran. So he had injected the heels with adamantium that she didn't want to know how he got. Though T'Challa had visited right before she did that, so maybe he had left some with Tony. She stopped right outside the SHIELD offices, wiped a beat of sweat from her brow, straightened her cardigan, and strolled inside like she hadn't just run six blocks in four-inch heels.

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

"Miss Lewis, you can go now," said Coulson, tapping on Darcy's shoulder. She jumped, accidently mashing her fingers into the keyboard. She looked at the clock as she backspaced in her document. It was six thirty.

"Fuck," she exclaimed. She saved her document and logged out of her computer before spinning to face her boss. "You coming to movie night? I got a veggie pizza with your name on it. And I made Grandma Andrea's famous cookies." Her cousin grinned at her.

"Wouldn't miss it, Darce," he replied, grinning at his younger cousin. "Seven, right?"

"Yep! See ya later, Phil!" she called, grabbing her purse before standing and kissing her cousin/boss on the cheek. She skidded down the hallway in her heels and ran smack into someone. "Shit, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, trying to move away.

"Babe!" exclaimed the man she had crashed into. Darcy froze, recognizing the voice immediately. Of course with her rotten luck, she'd run into Johnny fucking Storm.

"Johnny, hey," she muttered, looking for a way to get out of this stupid fucking situation.

"So, you busy tonight? Cause I was thinkin' that we could go catch a movie or grab dinner, ya know," he said, not letting her move further away than he could reach. She saw an agent she had worked with before and sent him a pleading look, but he just grinned and waved at her as he walked away.

"Uh, yeah, I have plans with, um, Nat. And Maria," she said, trying to avoid lying to him. She might not like the guy, but she liked lying even less.

Johnny rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, "Awww, c'mon babe, you can't cancel?" Darcy was surreptitiously trying to reach for her taser, bad relations between the FF and the Avengers be damned. She couldn't deal with this shit anymore.

"Darcy, I need you to check over this paperwork for me before tomorrow, okay?" said Phil, coming to her rescue. She wormed her way out of Storm's grasp and hurried to her cousin's side.

"I'll get right on it, bossman," she said, taking the file folder from him and flipping through the papers inside. Which seemed to consist of crude drawings and scrawled notes. She hid a smile behind a particularly funny one of Clint as Cupid as she realized these were the doodles the team did during briefings and boring meetings. She recognized this one as the work of Natasha, and she saw a sketch of Maria done by Bruce underneath it. She turned back to Johnny and said, "Sorry, but it seems I have a lot to do. Bye." She hurried past him, her Manolos clicking vigorously as she walked away, Phil next to her.

He looked at her, a glint of annoyance in his eye. "You need to-"

"Take care of it, I know. He just doesn't seem to get the hint," she hissed back. "I tried to get him off my case this morning, but Steve bailed on me." They made it to the elevator, and Darcy reached into her purse for her phone. She had a text from Jarvis, letting her know that the pizza was ordered, and one from Nat, telling her to hurry the hell up before she lost the battle of defending the cookies. She tapped back a reply as she continued to babble to Phil. "Why is he so convinced we're a thing? Like, it doesn't even make sense. It was one drunken night-"

"And then sixteen events afterwards in an attempt to make nice with the Fantastic Four," added Phil, tapping away at his phone in his calendar. "Darce, he's a playboy who's used to getting what and who he wants. He doesn't understand the word 'no'." Darcy leaned her head back against the wall of the elevator.

"Can we just get to the tower, please?"

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

Darcy was curled up on the couch with a glass of whiskey as the credits for the first movie rolled. She stretched a bit, her spine cracking. The rest of the team did the same, moving around a bit before the second movie started. A beer bottle clinked against something metal, and Darcy's eyes immediately shot to James, who was sprawled out on the floor, leaning against the couch she was curled up on one end of. She had noticed his shave and haircut earlier, and she had only now decided that she really liked it. He didn't look like a grungy hobo anymore, and the way his hair kept flopping over his forehead was quite endearing.

"What movie's next?" asked Clint, not moving from his spot sprawled across Natasha's lap. Her hands were threading through his hair absently, and his eyes were only half-open.

"I believe the next film is 'The Brothers' Grimm'," replied Jarvis. Darcy whooped out loud; finally they had gotten to her favorite.

"Just wait, guys, this one's awesome. Matt Damon and Heath Ledger work so well together, and Lena Heady is the perfect mix of leading lady and badass," she explained after receiving a few raised eyebrows.

"Whatever you say, Darce," snorted Tony, wrapping an arm around Pepper. She snuggled into his side, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She stuck her tongue out at him and settled in to watch the movie. As the haunting music began to play, she saw James lean forward a bit in anticipation.

"You don't have to sit on the floor, ya know," she whispered to him, leaning over so she was closer to his ear. He looked over and flashed a crooked smile before hauling himself up onto the couch. Darcy shifted positions so that she wasn't quite so smooshed into the corner of the couch, moving her feet towards the arm of the chair. Eowyn, one of the few cats that had been brought into the tower despite Tony's objections, made an appearance then, winding around Darcy's ankles before hopping up into her lap.

"Cute cat," whispered James, leaning over to stroke the animal's pale yellow fur.

"Shush," muttered Darcy, absently shoving a cookie into his mouth. He looked at her indignantly as he chewed, and she giggled. Eowyn curled up on Darcy's foot and another cat, called Zaphod – Jane and Bruce's lab cat, actually – curled up between her and Bucky. Bucky stroked Zaphod's calico fur absently as the movie continued to play. Darcy stifled a yawn and pulled Eowyn into her lap. She received a green-eyed glare in return, but the furball didn't move.

Halfway through the movie, Darcy found herself a few inches closer to Bucky, who now had Zaphod on his lap, Eowyn burrowed into his side, and another cat called Tribble on his shoulder. He had slung his arm over the back of his couch, and his hand was resting on the far side of Darcy's head. There was the clicking of a cameraphone, and Darcy giggled as Bucky glared at Sam, who had just snapped a picture of him covered in cats.

"What's so funny?" he whispered in her ear, leaning down and displacing Tribble, who hissed. Darcy shook her head and focused back on the movie. "C'mon, doll," he whined, "what's so funny?" He began to poke her in the side, and she giggled again. "If you don't tell me, I'll tickle you."

"Fine, fine," she giggled. "You look sort of like a crazy cat lady, alright?" Bucky rolled his eyes at her and stroked his hand down Zaphod's back while returning his attention to the screen.

The movie went on for another fifteen minutes before Darcy's phone rang. She groaned as she looked at the caller id, her head falling back against the crook of Bucky's elbow. "Who is it?" he whispered as she punched 'ignore.'

"The Flaming Idiot," she growled, so done with Johnny's bullshit. Her phone immediately rang again. She hit ignore again. Everyone was staring at her, the movie paused.

"Darce? Do you need to take that call?" asked Pepper, looking confused.

"No force in this universe could make me answer that phone," she replied as it rang for a third time.

"Storm?" asked Tony, sympathetic look in his eye. Darcy knew he understood her pain, because, even though he was now with Pepper, he still had to field calls from needy, clingy fangirls. All of the Avengers did. One girl that Clint had saved hadn't stopped calling until he and Darcy had 'butt-dialed' her and made sex noises. That had been interesting for Thor and Steve to walk in on.

"He won't take the hint," she growled. "I told him I don't want a relationship, but he keeps calling and asking me out, and I can't fucking take it anymore! I tried subtle, I tried rude, I tried lying; I've tried everything short of tasing his ass. Which I almost did today." She suddenly found herself crying and surrounded by Avengers. Bucky had pulled his arm tighter around her, smashing Eowyn between them, Pepper was perched on the back of the couch, running a soothing hand through Darcy's hair, Clint was on her other side, Natasha and Jane at her feet, heads resting on her knees.

"Do you wish for me to go and inform him of his indiscretion?" asked Thor, fingers twitching towards Mjolnir.

"Seriously, Darce, we could just go and teach him a lesson Avengers-style," agreed Tony, leaning next to Pepper.

"Hell no," she growled. "I've worked my ass off to get the Fantastic Four to work with us. You are _not_ ruining that because of me. Let me take care of it, okay?" Everyone looked at her like she was crazy.

"I could go talk to Sue, see if she can talk some sense into him?" suggested Bruce.

"No," she replied, voice firm. She wiped away the last tear. "I'm really grateful that you all are willing to help, but I'm not in danger. This is just really annoying. I'll take care of it, alright?" The team nodded and went back to their seats. Bucky kept her close to his side though. She knew they had only officially met that morning, but she was happy with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his fingers making patterns on her upper arm. The rest of the movie passed in relative silence after Darcy turned off her phone.

Eventually the movie ended and Darcy decided to call it a night. "Night, guys. Thank you," she said, standing, stretching, and walking out with a wave as Eowyn trotted after her favorite human. She could feel Bucky's eyes on her, but not in the same thrilling way as earlier. This was a heavier gaze, and it made her insides twist up. She shook her head, heading to her room to find her favorite penguin pants and old t-shirt to curl up in.

_A/N- Chapter 3! I have no idea how long this will be, or really the next part of the plot in between this. I'm sorry that I'm portraying Johnny Storm as such an ass. I love him, I really do, but it's just how the story is pulling me. I'm sorry about the hectic uploading schedule; I'm still trying to build a functional schedule. I own nothing, love you all, and am really thankful to all of my reviewers/followers. I know I don't really reply to reviews, but I think I'll mention all the lovely amazing people who have encouraged me through this at the end of the story. All my love- Rose_


	4. Chapter 4

**Bucky POV**

Bucky looked up from his mug of coffee as Darcy slouched into the communal kitchen. He waited until she had her favorite giraffe mug full of coffee and had taken a couple of sips before greeting her, "Mornin' Darce." It had been a month since they'd met, and she had quickly become a permanent fixture in his life. He rarely spent his time in the apartment anymore, instead choosing to let her teach him how to cook, sparring with her – he had learned quickly that while she looked deliciously soft and delicate, she was far from it – and just hanging out with her, Steve, and Clint. The four of them routinely got lectured by Coulson for pranking the more stoic agents.

"Hey Jim," she said, and he curled his lip in distaste. He hated that nickname. She smirked at him over her coffee mug before fishing out a bowl and some ingredients. "Waffles?" He nodded eagerly, and she laughed. She turned to fish out the waffle maker, and he took a moment to admire her. She was clad in plaid pajama pants that he was almost sure had belonged to Clint at one point, her hair was tied up into a messy bun, and, he swallowed hard, was she wearing his shirt? They had been flirting ever since they met, and now she had escalated to wearing his clothes? Where had she even gotten it? And perhaps most importantly, was she actively _trying_ to kill him?

"James? You alright?" she asked, waving her hands in front of his face. He must have zoned out completely.

"Y-yeah, I'm good," he said, shaking his head. His hair was starting to get longer again, and he made a mental note to go get a haircut sometime this week. "You said waffles, right?"

She looked at him a bit strangely, and replied, "Yeah. You wanna cut up some strawberries for me?" He nodded and moved to pull the container of fresh strawberries from the fridge. "Don't forget, Pep's allergic!" He nodded and began to wash the fruit. He had just grabbed a paring knife when there was a sudden loud noise. He jumped, switched the grip on his knife, and spun around. Darcy was fiddling with her phone, face blank.

"You okay?" he asked, setting down the knife and moving towards her. He got a glimpse of the name on the caller ID before the screen went black. His jaw tightened as he registered "Flaming Asshole" on her screen.

"Y-yeah, it's nothing," she said, turning and giving him a smile that was just a bit _too_ bright. He didn't press her for information, but promised to talk to Coulson about it later. Maybe Darcy's cousin could get some information that he couldn't. He began to efficiently slice strawberries, intensely focused on Johnny Storm and his harassment of Darcy. She had said she'd take care of it multiple times, but evidently still hadn't.

"You know I'm always here for you if you need anything, right doll?" he said, turning to look at her. She gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, James," she replied, turning back to her waffle batter. She poured a ladleful into the hot waffle press, and began to make whipped cream. "Hey, Jarvis? Can you tell everyone that we're making breakfast?"

"Of course, Darcy," the AI replied.

Twenty minutes later found most of the Avengers gathered in the kitchen around a steaming pile of waffles with fruit and fresh whipped cream. "Darcy, these are phenomenal," mumbled Steve around a mouthful of food.

"Chew your food," she said offhandedly as she shoveled a spoonful of whipped cream into her mouth. Bucky couldn't help but stare at the smear of whipped cream on her lip. Her tongue darted out to swipe it off, and he had to shove a forkful of food into his mouth to cover up the groan that he couldn't suppress.

"James, you'll help me with the dishes, right?" she asked, looking over at him after the plate of waffles had been emptied. She had the rest of the bowl of whipped cream in front of her, a spoon in her hand. She scooped some up and put it into her mouth, sucking the fluffy white topping off of the spoon.

"Yep, of course," he managed to say, biting the inside of his cheek as she did it again. He hurried to grab the dishes and put them in the sink, not wanting to see the object of his affections stick another spoonful of white fluff into her mouth. He was so screwed. He began to methodically scrub at the dishes, washing them before placing them in the drying rack. Darcy appeared next to him, a towel thrown over her shoulder, and began to dry and put away the dishes that she could reach. Which weren't very many, because although they might call it Darcy's kitchen, it had obviously been designed for someone taller. Her phone rang, buzzing across the counter, and she jumped, nearly dropping a plate. Bucky's quick reflexes allowed him to catch it before it hit the floor. Darcy pulled her phone out of her pocket, mumbling the whole time. Her face twisted and paled. She nearly hit the "Ignore" button before Bucky pulled it from her hand. He checked the caller ID and scowled.

"James, please, don't," she whispered. "I can take care of-"

"Darcy, you haven't taken care of it yet. You said you would a month ago, and you still haven't," he replied, pressing the ignore button and setting the phone on the counter. He wrapped his hand around hers and tugged lightly. She pulled away from him, almost violently.

"I said I can take care of it myself, James!" she nearly yelled at him. "Don't you believe I can take care of myself?"

"Of course I do, but he's still calling and you're acting all secretive about it. I'm worried, doll."

"What if I just don't want to talk about it, huh? You ever think of that? No, you fucking don't. Let me tell you something, Barnes, I did just fine with stalker guys before I met you, and I can handle them just fine n-"

"Stalker?" asked Bucky, his shoulders tensing. "Is Storm stalking you?"

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS," she screamed. "Back the hell off, Barnes. I don't need a hero. I'm my own hero." She grabbed her phone and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Bucky standing there, alone. He turned and slammed his normal hand down onto the granite counter, relishing the sting of pain. He did it again, wincing at the crack of his flesh against stone. On the eighth time his fist connected with the counter, he heard not only the crack of bone, but the crack of the countertop as well.

"Fuck," he growled. Darcy was gonna be even more mad. He was just worried about her. He made his way down to the gym to work off some of his emotions.

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

"Hey man, you okay?" asked Clint, strolling up to Bucky as he decimated a punching bag.

"No," he replied, not bothering to stop hitting the bag. He delivered a kick that sent the bag flying across the room, sand spilling everywhere.

"Talk to me," came a smooth voice from a few feet over. Natasha was crouched at the edge of the sparring mat, looking over at him with interest. "I'm worried about her too. She turned me away the other night when I showed up with Rocky Road and a bottle of vodka." Bucky walked over to the redheaded spy. Bucky rubbed at his hand, the cracked bone was still knitting together. Natasha was inspecting his hand before he registered what was happening. "Ты идиот," she said. "Your hand is broken and you just beat up a punching bag? This isn't going to heal right if you don't tape it and stop hitting things.

"And what if I don't give a fuck?" growled Bucky, moving to pull his hand back. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, and, instead of getting his ass handed to him, he let her tape it up. "You're terrifying," he remarked. She just smirked.

"Now," she said, "we figure out what is up with our малютка."

Ты идиот—you idiot

Малютка—little one

_A/N- Sorry this is so short. I think I'm going to wrap this up in a couple of chapters. School is getting really busy because my schedule is all over the place. I'm trying to keep updating in a timely manner, I promise! All my love- Rose_


End file.
